


Can't Stand You

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Hate Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:03:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is in love with Harry and Nick tries to take his mind off things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Stand You

**Author's Note:**

> so I published this on tumblr a few months ago and I'm now deleting the blog so here it is. please be warned that this was my first experience writing smut. so.

It starts after just one interview. One Direction is invited on BBC Radio 1 for a “chat,” and Louis thinks nothing of it until he meets the host—or rather, when Harry meets the host. Nick Grimshaw wins Harry over almost immediately with his overwhelming charm and cool, collected attitude. He isn’t nearly as good-looking as any of them, least of all Louis himself, but one would think him a million times more attractive with the fascination shining from Harry’s eyes.

Throughout the interview, he hangs onto Nick’s every word, laughing too loud at his sly jokes with that obnoxious giggle that makes Louis’ chest tighten. He eagerly responds to every question directed at him, and Louis finds himself growing to detest the older host. Absolute loathing radiates from his small frame, increasing every time Nick dares to glance in Harry’s direction. Harry remains oblivious, of course, and Nick aloof. He doesn’t bat an eye at Louis’ sickeningly sugary comments, doesn’t seem to notice Louis’ cold blue eyes driving icicles in his direction all the while.

What Louis can’t understand is how Nick can capture Harry so completely and so soon while Louis had been trying for two years now to get the younger boy to see him as something more than a band mate. Quite frankly, he is jealous. A young popstar jealous of an old radio show host—yes, even to Louis it sounds ridiculous. But he can’t help himself, and it makes him hate the older man even more.

In between glares and pursed-lip smirks, Louis studies Nick. He looks rather like a horse, Louis decides, with his long nose and dull eyes.

And finally, the interview is over. Louis slides off his stool, stopping to shake Nick’s hand as the other boys had done before him.

“Lovely to meet you, Louis,” Nick purrs, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Wasn’t it,” Louis replies sweetly as he gives Nick’s hand a final threatening squeeze. He sashays out of the room without a backward glance, the sound of Harry and Nick’s enthusiastic conversation ringing in his ears.

~*~

“Louis, I’m going over to Grimmy’s place. You wanna come?”

Louis sighs dramatically from his place lounged on the couch, raising an eyebrow at his flatmate. No he absolutely does not want to go with Harry to “Grimmy’s” place. He swore if he saw the interior of Nick’s ugly hipster house one more time he would scream.

“Again? We just went the other day. You spend more time at his house than you do your own, Styles,” Louis counters, snuggling deeper into the cushions.

“But he promised to show me some of his old records!” Harry whines, pouting. Louis is positive he uses the same excuse every time. How many records this man has, he could only wonder.

Harry continues busying himself around the house and preparing to leave. Louis sighs again. It looks like the younger boy is leaving with or without Louis’ accompaniment. Louis wishes Harry would stay and spend some time alone with him. They hadn’t done that in ages, and Louis misses their regular cuddles, no matter how platonic they had to be.

Harry comes bustling out of their shared room, and Louis can see he’s changed into a pair of fresh jeans and a loose t-shirt. He gets a whiff of a deep musky scent as Harry passes and wrinkles his nose.

“Did you put on cologne, Harold,” Louis frowns. He loves Harry’s scent, but he doesn’t want Nick to love it too.

“Um…” Harry mumbles absently, stopping and fiddling with his necklace.

“Trying to impress Grimshaw?” Louis teases, as if he’s not bothered by the possibility.

“Of course not!” Harry protests, scurrying away to search for his Converse. “Just freshening up, is all. I don’t want to smell like a hobo…”

“Hmph,” Louis grunts in return, eyeing his bandmate as he pauses by the door.

“Are you coming or not,” Harry demands, long fingers grasping the doorknob impatiently.

Just like every other time, Louis agrees, not only because he can’t stand to see Harry even the slightest bit upset, but also because he isn’t sure what kind of mischief they would get into without him there to chaperon them.

~*~

Louis sits in the corner, nursing a beer and idly watching Nick and Harry discuss various topics, at least half of them being things Louis had never bothered to think about. He had been getting drunker by the minute, alternating between making hideous faces behind their unknowing backs and admiring Harry’s backside. But even that soon becomes tiresome, so Louis shifts his gaze to study the older man. The way Harry looks at him makes him seem like the most interesting man on the planet, while he continues spewing nonsense from his unusually large mouth. Louis is almost amused.

His mouth, of course, is not the only thing Louis finds unpleasant. His eyebrows are far too long, his hair too thin to be copying Zayn’s quiff. Louis is also fairly certain that one ear protrudes the tiniest bit further than the other, throwing off the entire symmetry of his face. How Harry could stand to stare into this mug for long periods of time is beyond Louis. He is sure no matter how longs he spends studying Nick’s pale features, he will not find exactly what Harry sees and apparently seems to like so much.

“Louis, darling, you’re staring,” Nick says mock-politely.

Louis pushes his fringe out of his eyes, suppressing a snarl. He can almost ignore his loathing when Nick is focusing his attention elsewhere, but when those heavy-lidded eyes turn their gaze on him he feels the bitterness claw its way back up.

“Nick, sweetheart, you must be flattered,” Louis replies loftily. He bares his teeth in what he hopes is a smile and takes a long swig of his beer, wincing as it sears down his throat.

Harry chuckles nervously and taps Nick’s arm, trying to win back the attention of the older man. Louis sighs loudly, ignored once again, and tilts his face up to glare at the ceiling, noting with petty satisfaction the cracks in the plaster. His eyelids begin to droop, and soon he is floating in blissful unconsciousness.

He wakes up gradually, blinking away the sleep from his eyes as he tries to make sense of his surroundings. There is Nick’s repulsive vintage lamp, and the couch beneath him smells suspiciously of—

“The princess has awoken.”

Louis jumps, yanking himself into a sitting position where he comes face to face with Nick. Nick arches an eyebrow, looking disdainfully down at the younger boy.

“You fell asleep, and Harry couldn’t bear to wake you up, bless him,” Nick continues, taking a seat a bit too close for Louis’ liking. “You just looked so adorable.”

“He—he just left me?” Louis croaks, hurt and not yet awake enough to think up a snarky comment.

“I didn’t think you needed more than one babysitter,” Nick quips.

“You’re not my babysitter, and neither is Harry. I’m leaving now,” Louis snaps, rising from the couch and taking a step toward the front door.

Nick reaches out to snake a hand around Louis’ waist, holding him in place. “You don’t have a car, love. I said I’d drive you home when we’re ready.”

Louis looks pointedly at the hand on his waist, resisting the urge to jerk away. “We are ready. Now let’s go.”

“You can stand to be away from Harry for a bit, can’t you?” Nick drawls. “Or are you just so whipped—“

“I’m not whipped,” Louis spits, finally pulling out of the host’s grip. “But you would know all about that, wouldn’t you, always dragging Harry over here to drool over your stupid records.”

“Harry comes on his own,” Nick smirks. “As do you.”

“I’m just here to make sure you and Harry don’t end up with your hands down each other’s pants,” Louis says coolly.

“But why should you care?” Nick murmurs, slowly standing. “Why should you about what Harry and I do?”

Louis glares at him, his blue eyes chilling.

“You love him, don’t you.”

Louis struggles to keep the shock out of his expression, allowing intense hate to mar his delicate features instead.

“No, I don’t.”

“Don’t deny it, sweetheart. I’m not blind.”

Louis shakes his head vehemently, sneering at Nick.

“Then prove it,” Nick whispers, his hazel eyes darkening. Louis stares at him a moment before abruptly making his move.

Lips suddenly slam into Nick’s, catching him off guard and leaving him breathless. Louis kisses him forcefully, almost to the point of pain. Their teeth clash together along with more tongue and lip, an almost infuriating feeling of arousal settling into the pit of Louis’ stomach.

“Did I prove it yet, or would you like me to continue,” Louis snarls, pulling away but only getting so far until Nick jerks him back again.

“Not quite,” Nick growls against the younger boy’s mouth. “What you need is a distraction.”

 

Louis hitches his breath and mashes their lips together again, feeling so angry but so utterly desperate at the same time, it is hard to even think. Nick rips his lips away, retreating down to Louis’ neck instead. He sucks patterns into the tanned skin, leaving no room for thought, only want.

 

“You’re such a dick,” Louis hisses as Nick leaves another particularly impressive hickey on his collarbone.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Nick retorts against the popstar’s flushed skin. His large hands make their way to Louis’ ass, cupping the soft flesh before abruptly yanking him up and carrying him towards his own room.

He dumps Louis on the bed, pausing a moment to take in his appearance.

“You’re too damn pretty for you own good,” Nick breathes before climbing on top of the smaller boy.

Their lips smash together again, nipping and licking as Louis impatiently tries to pull Nick’s shirt over his head. They fumble with the offensive clothing until they’re both sweating and bare-chested, silently admiring the other until they remember they hate each other.

And then it’s rough again, Nick sliding a thigh in between Louis’ legs and Louis grinding upward through his jeans until he can’t bear the constrictive fabric and struggles to shed that too. He only gets them halfway down his thighs before Nick slips a hand between them, gently stroking Louis’ length through his boxers. His stomach clenches at Louis’ gasps of pleasure and his own cock twitches under him. Louis’ hips jerk up into Nick’s hand, impatient.

“Fuck,” Louis groans as Nick cups his dick tighter. He barely has time to reach beneath the fabric to pump the younger boy’s length a few times before Louis is coming hard, soaking his boxers and Nick’s hand. Nick pulls his hand back up, obnoxiously smearing the come into Louis’ toned chest and dipping his sticky fingers in his mouth. Louis bites them, smirking as Nick quickly pulls his hand away.

“I’m still not convinced,” Nick murmurs, feeling his hard cock ache against his restrictively tight pants.

Louis glares at him a moment before sliding out from under the older man, forcing him to flip onto his back. Louis tugs at Nick’s pants, mercilessly ripping open the buttons before gazing upward through his long lashes with a sultry expression. Nick suppresses a shudder of arousal, gesturing at Louis’ position between his legs instead.

“Get on with it then.”

Nick lifts his hips to allow Louis to slide the remaining clothing off, his cock springing free. Nick can feel the throbbing in his dick as Louis studies it for a moment, a smirk playing on his face. 

“Well, Grimshaw,” Louis began, eyes still on the radio show host’s dick.

“Shut up and suck it, Tomlinson,” Nick practically groans, screwing his eyes shut. He’s almost about to reach down and finish himself up when he feels Louis’ tongue lick a stripe on the underside of his cock.

Louis takes it in his mouth, cautiously at first but gaining momentum as he adjusts to Nick’s size. Nick moans loudly, relishing the sensation of Louis smiling around his length, no matter what the cause. Louis pulls his mouth away with an obscene pop and swirls his tongue over the tip until he allows the older man’s cock to hit the back of his throat again.

“You’ve certainly had a lot of practice, haven’t you,” Nick mumbles, struggling to keep his voice steady.

“Mmmm,” Louis hums, and it’s the end for Nick. He comes hard into Louis’ mouth, gasping. Louis swallows and pulls away, wiping his face on Nick’s bed sheets. He pulls away and stands to grab his clothes, hesitating as he takes in Nick’s incredulous expression.

“What?” Louis asks, slipping his pants back up. “Did you want something else?”

“Leaving so soon?” Nick responds.

“Well, I’ve proved it to you, haven’t I,” Louis states. Nick looks at him doubtfully, but seeing Louis’ vicious expression decides not to push it.

“Close enough,” he grins. “But you know, Louis, if you ever need to take your mind off things…”

“Shut up,” Louis says, voice muffled as he pulls his shirt over his head. “This was a one-time thing, Grimshaw. I still can’t stand you.”

Nick raises his hands in surrender, pushing himself off the bed to grab his own clothes and staring appreciatively after Louis’ ass as the younger boy leaves the bedroom.

“One-time thing, right,” he mutters to himself, following Louis out the door.

~*~

Louis tries to keep it a one-time thing, he really does. He avoids accompanying Harry to Nick’s house, ignoring the curly-haired boy’s pleas and empty threats, until one night Harry comes home late, drunk and in a different pair of pants than the ones he had left it. Louis doesn’t allow him out by himself after that, despite Harry’s attempts at convincing him that the change was only due to a spill—“A spill of what, exactly, Styles,” Louis had said—and decides to go with Harry to the Grimshaw place for the next visit.

So when Nick asks him to take a walk to the park with him while Harry makes lunch, Louis isn’t completely surprised when his dick ends up down Nick’s throat behind a particularly thick oak tree. Nick had been making tasteless innuendos the entire time they were at the house (Louis was shocked Harry hadn’t noticed—usually he and Nick think alike) and it was only a matter of time before he followed up on them.

Not that Louis doesn’t enjoy it, of course. He thoroughly appreciates it while it’s happening, but when it’s over and he’s gone back home to fall asleep next to Harry, he has an overwhelming feeling of guilt. It’s almost as if he’s cheating on Harry, though they’re not even together.

Nick’s even taken to coming over to Louis and Harry’s flat when he knows Harry won’t be home. Sometimes, if Louis is in a particularly foul mood, he’ll refuse to even open the door for Nick and leave him standing outside in the cold for at least twenty minutes while the radio host bangs on the door and shouts muffled profanities. But more often than not, Louis answers the door with a disgusted look plastered on his face but allows Nick to scoop him up and rush him to the bedroom. He doesn’t even know why he permits this thing they have to continue, but time after time he finds himself inexplicably drawn to the older man. Though of course he would never admit it.

~*~

The next time Harry, Louis, and Nick are together, it doesn’t exactly go the way Nick had planned. They are all gathered in Nick’s house, again, with Harry helping Nick sort his old junk into boxes and Louis standing possessively close to Harry. Louis barely registers Nick’s existence, choosing instead to drape himself over Harry like he does most other times, as if he not only wants to mark Harry as his but also wants to mark himself as Harry’s. Nick doesn’t acknowledge this, of course, allowing Louis to ignore him.

Louis occasionally makes bitchy comments—being Louis, how could he not—about Nick’s knick knacks and other things of the sort. Harry is childishly thrilled because his two best friends are together in at least one sense of the word, even though it’s his own never-ending commentary that keeps the room from sinking into silence and sexual tension.

So when Harry leaves them for a moment to go to the bathroom, it gets awkward to say the least. Louis pretends to inspect Nick’s trinkets, running his tanned hands over everything with an unfocused gaze.

“If you like it, you can have it,” Nick says, finally breaking the silence. He gestures to the small gold colored horse in Louis’ hands. Louis looks down, as if suddenly realizing he what he’s holding, and brings it closer to his face, studying it. He really does like horses, and this one is rather beautifully made. He strokes the small horse’s gold neck once with his finger before placing it back on the table.

“I have enough of your crap in my house, thanks,” Louis retorts, still looking down. Harry had been bringing back various “presents,” from Nick, and every time he did so Louis would look at him disdainfully and ask whose birthday it was.

“It was my mother’s,” Nick replies calmly, shrugging.

“Then why would you want me to have it?” Louis says quietly.

“I don’t know,” Nick mumbles, shrugging again. He doesn’t know what’s come over him—he’s never at a loss for words around anyone, least of all Louis. His eyes travel over Louis’ profile. He looks so soft in his large grey sweater, with the sleeves slightly too long for him and partially covering his hands. Nick has the urge to just hug him, surprising even himself with this unconventional thought.

But Louis doesn’t notice his stare, only picks up the gold horse again and thoughtfully twirls it around in his hands. “I’ve always wanted a horse,” Louis confesses. “Maybe I wouldn’t have time to ride it all that much, but it would still be nice.” Nick stays silent until finally Louis meets his gaze with his pools of ocean blue.

Stepping forward slowly, carefully, as if approaching a doe in the forest, Nick reaches out to hold the younger boy, until he feels his warmth in his arms. Louis hesitates, a bit bewildered at Nick’s sudden display of affection, before allowing himself to melt into his thin body.

Nick leans down to gently press his chapped lips to Louis’ soft ones.

“Nick? Louis?”

Louis violently pushes Nick backward and meets Harry’s shocked expression.

“Um, I didn’t know…” Harry trails off, looking questioningly between his two friends. “Are you guys, like, together?”

“Uh, well,” Nick mutters, running a hand through his hair and awkwardly glancing at Louis, who is still frozen in place.

Harry’s face breaks into a slow grin. “I knew you guys would get along!” he crowed. “Might as well start planning the wedding now—“

Louis stares at his band mate for a moment, an angry blush tainting his cheeks, before rushing past them both and flying out the door. Harry stops mid-sentence, surprised, and looks back at Nick.

“What did I say?” he questions, worried.

Nick shakes his head fervently, grabbing his jacket and slipping past his friend to jog after Louis.

~*~

Louis doesn’t know where he’s going, just knows he has to get away. He feels numb inside, and barely notices he’s ended up in the small park near Nick’s house until a leaf spirals from an overhead tree and brushes his cheek. He takes a moment to suck in the cold autumn air and steady his heart before opening his eyes to take in the park around him. Finding an old wooden bench, he sinks down and rubs his eyes. He isn’t sure exactly what he’s feeling and frankly doesn’t want to know. Just wishing he could sit there forever, under the multicolored trees.

But things never go exactly as planned, and soon Louis is interrupted by a gangly figure jogging towards him. Nick stumbles to a halt and plops down on the bench next to the younger boy, panting.

“I thought you’d be here,” Nick breathes, shivering slightly. “It’s bloody cold, too.”

Louis rolls his eyes and shifts away. “What do you want, Grimshaw.”

“I was hoping to ask you the same thing, actually.”

“What do I want?” Louis laughs humorlessly. “You know what I want. And I know it’s impossible, so don’t bother telling me.”

“Harry?” Nick murmurs.

Louis nods expressionlessly, staring at the ground. Nick waits for him to explain.

“It’s just…when he saw us…well, he wasn’t upset in the least. He wasn’t angry, or sad, or anything that I would be if I saw him kissing you. He didn’t even care.” Louis scrunches up his face. “I’ve been trying to convince myself that he does care for me, he must. That he’s just been hiding it, like I have. But now…”

Nick nods thoughtfully, eyes on Louis.

Louis chuckles darkly. “It doesn’t even make sense. Don’t try to understand—you can’t. You’ve never been in love with your best friend, never felt like I do about anyone, probably.”

“You’re wrong there, love,” Nick says wryly. “I think I can relate.”

“Can you?” Louis asks doubtfully.

“About having feelings for someone who obviously doesn’t feel the same way you do? Yeah.”

“Who is it, then?” Louis looks up questioningly.

“Do you really have to ask?” Nick murmurs, leaning forward to brush his lips against Louis’. “I’m talking about you, idiot.”

“You’re not just looking for a good shag, then?” Louis mumbles against his lips.

Nick pulls back to look the popstar in the face. “It started out like that, to tell you the truth. But you’ve seduced me with your charm and exceptionally good taste in music.”

Louis makes a face and Nick’s expression suddenly turns serious. “But in all honesty, Lou, I-I really do like you. But if you still love Harry I don’t want to push you into anything—“

“You know you wouldn’t be able to push me to do anything, Grimshaw.” Louis raises an eyebrow and smirks, pulling the small gold horse out of his pocket to offer back to Nick. “But that’s okay, anyway. I think I’d go willingly.”

~*~


End file.
